


A Pirate and the Cocotte Geisha

by SasstrianPrissess



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/M, M/M, Somewhat based off of Memoirs of a Geisha, explicit for later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-13
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8271598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SasstrianPrissess/pseuds/SasstrianPrissess
Summary: In a world full of vast changes, what was a haven can now be hell or maybe its just living as you already are.





	

 

**_"It is not flesh we are selling here, this is a Geisha house." -Mother, MoaG_ **

After the third arc, the world was never the same. Armageddon had left the world in shambles during the second order, but what has come to be known as the third arc would be considered an era of modernised peace. In the earth year of 4101 is where my story begins, in a small village known for the last of protected fertile soil that can still bear fruit. In the past, it might have once been considered a protected park, Yosemite, I believe, but now it is called Gaisir Rouc.

On the eve of my birth month, I was sent away to live out my life, my Mother tried to protect us all, my younger brother and sisters and I, when our father was recruited to guard in the Watch. Everyone knew that when you were called to Watch, you were then another dead body. Mother had been told then, when Father was taken, that I was to join in six years hence. Now I knew, for my sake, why Mother sent me away. If for the fate of my younger brother, they too would face the same, or perhaps my sisters, none were safe.

Far away I was forced to travel with one other boy who had come from a shelter of death; his family torn unrecognizably before his eyes in a decimation of his whole village by a raid, and a stern, burly woman with a strong accent and even stronger smell of reconstituted pipe tobacco. It was lucky that a train was taken, shortening the trip considerably, but in those taken, all two days, I learned nothing but silence and slaps if I spoke too much. Not even the other boy spoke to me but in whispers in the middle of the night, broken lisp-like stutters prominent under his breath every time as he spoke; "...sold...w-we are to be used."

=============================

"Sold," Alfred murmured, sleepless as he sighed and peered up at the window through the broken shutter to stare into the cloudy night that rumbled occasionally like a great, grumpy bear that hungered for the sweet flesh of fish. That night, he was playing through week old memories, the other boy had been separated from him once they reached the city; Gilen his name was, "I wonder where he ended up...poor Gilen, he looked so scared."

"Who is scared?"

"Hm?" he turned over, squinting in the semi darkness that was only just lit by the thin cracks in the floor and from the space under the door, "Oh, Matthew...no one, just go back to sleep."

"You're thinking about your life before you came here, aren't you?" Matthew whispered, rubbing his eyes, "I told you not to do that, it'll be easier if you just...forget about everything from then." The gaze Alfred received was soft, a hand reaching out to pull him closer into a sort of sleepy hug, "I cried for a month almost every night until finally one time I just stopped... So, don't cry so much, Alfred."

For his part, Alfred did not understand how, but despite himself, he had begun to cry. The hug he'd gotten was welcomed and he sniffled, clinging to the other boy who seemed to know quite a bit. That of course, was unsurprising since Matthew had more than a year already in adjustment to living in the home that had bought them; they were not the only ones living there as such, though the one that provided a source of income, Socorro, was out for the night and the only other person within the home besides that were two somewhat older people. They both looked enough alike to be siblings, but their difference was rank and temper. The one with a sterner temperament, he was the head of the Van Der Hughes house... Father they had to all call him; the other they were allowed a more familial term of Aunt, she was a bit easier.

"Shh," Matthew soothed as he rubbed Alfred's back, "once you start studying like me, it will be much easier to forget...and then you will see. We will both become geisha."

"...I still don't know what that is," Alfred mumbled into Matthew's shoulder, sighing with a pouty huff.

"A geisha," Matthew repeated, as if the very word explained itself, "like Socorro....and like Auntie used to be. We will get to drink wine and sleep in until noon. I asked Socorro, she said that it is something fun...to entertain others. Plus, when I asked Father, he said if we're lucky, we might get a sponser, someone who will buy us gifts. Don't you think getting presents sound fun?"

"Yes, but what kind of entertain?"

"Well, so far I'm only learning singing and plucking shamisen strings, but when Father lets you go to school with me, we will learn how to dance," he explained excitedly, more awake now that he was expressing his enjoyment of obvious want to become that word...geisha, "but don't worry about learning to sing or play the shamisen, I'll help you."

"Mn," Alfred nodded, not at all concerned with learning anything about geisha ways. He was wondering about his family, if his mother were okay and thinking of him too; he missed them all, every single one of them, even if he and his siblings sometimes fought growing up, "...goodnight, Matthew."

"Goodnight, Alfred."

=============================

"Tonight, men, we feast and take pleasure where we find it, this shall become our personal Eden!" the Captain hyped up his crew, brandishing a fancy thing made of well polished brass gears that very much resembled a retrofitted handgun, the mate sheathed at his side for the moment. This man was rather dangerous, a wanted criminal, and the fire that burned in his brilliant emerald eyes only enhanced his intimidation as he stared down from the side of his night cloaked ship to the tucked away little paradise down below where unsuspecting families retired for the night, his eyes more on the prize of a certain house that overlooked a dazzling waterfall. That one would be his once the occupants were, more or less, evicted, "Steady now, boys, and no slip ups this time. Getting through that wall was difficult enough, the last thing we'll need is for one of those little rats to slip away."

One by one, each house grew dark, and under the cover of darkness, like swift shadows, the pirates invaded. That night, not a sound was made within those homes and the dawn greeted those that remained with blood covered walls and the wailing of the near dead as great bonfires were lit and the few of the crew that enjoyed roasted human flesh gorged greedily upon the fresh meat, the left over children or pretty wives used to satisfy their lust. The lucky ones were killed after the rape, but the others exploded soon after as a couple of the crew were of an alienated species that specialized in host breeding and would impregnate their victims with parasitic eggs that would suck their bodies dry from within before the birth like a great boil-like cyst filled with large spiders.

For Captain Kirkland, he had his house that he wanted, a hard leer at the woman that crowded over her children into a corner in the kitchen. It was interesting to see how each child had some shade of muddied blue eyes and varying blond hair whilst the mother was ashen with hazel.

"A widow with three beautiful gems," Arthur sneered, kicking up booted feet onto the wooden table as he got comfortable, "and the girls are a great find with the lad strong if on the whining side...quite certainly a small fortune I had no intention of finding, today is a very lucky one for me. They will all make such beautiful whores and with their eyes, they'll fetch quite a price a piece; the girls especially."

"No!" She shouted, trembling hard even as the children quietly cried and huddled together.

"It's no use to oppose me, woman," the Captain grinned, "I've made my decision, you, on the other hand," he drawled, slowly pulling out his gun and aiming it at the her, cocking it, "I have no use for," shooting her down in one blow, blood and bits of grey matter splattering on the walls and children behind her.

At the sound of the trigger being pulled, the children all flinched before they started wailing, bawling out their eyes over their now dead mother. Now that Arthur could get a good look at them, he was unsurprised to see that they were much smaller than he thought, the youngest no older than five and the oldest at eight. It was the eight year old that glared at him with hatred to which Arthur returned with a smirk. He liked that look, it was just too bad that he didn't find the severely muddied blue appealing, now if the eyes were a much clearer blue, then maybe he would have kept that one for himself.

"You, boy, get that rope right there," Arthur barked out, pointing to the rope that hung from the rafters that was usually used to hang their clothes if it rained outside, "and tie your sisters together," he cocked the gun again, aiming it at the youngest girl, "Any resistance and I'll start shooting your remaining family."

Continuing to glare hard amidst his tears, the boy did as he was told, hugging his sisters in turn each and being gentle when he did tie them up by their waists. He whispered small assurances, saying he'd run away and get their dad when he had the chance, but what he did not know was that their father was already amongst the dead, and he even wiped the youngest face even when his own was clearly wet with tears.

"What's your name, lad?" Arthur inquired, clearly getting some sick entertainment from watching the children try and be strong while still so close to their mother's corpse, "and theirs?" meaning the sisters.

"Allen," the boy replied thickly, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he sniffled heavily, "and Amelia," he added, squeezing the oldest girl's hand, "Abigail..." now he briefly glanced at the youngest before cleaning her face again.

"Mn, I'll grant you three this one mercy," Arthur responded after a while, "Grab a shovel, lad, you'll be doing the digging, and you girls, get this place cleaned up, I don't want to see a speck of blood or else," He waited until Allen was right at the back door that led from the kitchen to a private garden, "oh, and don't bother trying to escape, I won't stop my men if they get a hold of you."

It was awkward going for the girls, but, though they were fumbling, they managed to work as a team of sorts under Arthur's watchful eye, cleaning up what had spilt from their mother and mourning quietly as they manipulated her cooling body to clean it of blood and spilling brain matter. Behind the sound of their sniffling, he could hear the boy digging a grave in the hard ground, his muscles very likely unused to that sort of labor. Once the girls were done, he ordered them to cook him a meal as he'd gotten hungry just watching the children work.

About an hour later, Allen returned, dirty and worn, but his hatred towards the pirate resonated in full as his sisters set out a full feast of easy to make breakfast foods; mostly eggs, toast, and warmed meats that were from last nights left overs with fresh fruit and a bottle of their late father's best wine. Arthur waved the children off to take the dead woman outside and bury her while he ate his fill, greatly enjoying the wine as it made the overcooked bread easier to swallow. What little remained he'd let the children have, now curiously examining the objects that lined the shelves until he came across a small, leather bound book. Upon further inspection, he noticed that it was a photo album with sepiad pictures of the family, mostly the children; what caught his eye though, was that pictured was another child he had not seen, another boy. It was hard to tell just what sort of eyes he might've had, but Arthur couldn't help but want to possess the obvious brightness that shone through the discolored photograph.

Walking back into the kitchen where he'd found the boy sneaking a bit of the fruit to the girls, whom were standing in the cleaned corner, Arthur approached them, holding out the book to the page with the full family photo, "Where is the lad in this photo?"

"Dead," Allen snapped quickly, swallowing hard as he decided to protect the last brother who would hopefully live a much happier and longer life, "he drowned last year when the valley flooded."

"Oh? Pity," Arthur murmured, flipping the book to look at the photo one last time, "or perhaps lucky, from your view. Clean this mess and keep quiet, I have to contact some clients," he ordered, stepping out of the kitchen and pulling out a small sort of watch from an inner coat pocket that was actually a communication device.

Launching the device, a rather large, blue screen popped up and Arthur manipulated the programs within until he had three people on call, "Viktor, Oliver, and Imogen, pleasure to be in contact with you so soon."

"As you dear poppet, but deary me, since when did you become domestic?" Oliver snickered, eyeing the home surrounding the pirate.

"Domestic is funny joke, it almost give me the giggle," Viktor responded in a gruff voice, hair mussed from having been awoken and a clear indication from the droll look that he was being sarcastic.

"What do you want, eh? I was in the middle of...something," Imogen muttered, the something involving a large wrench that dripped something dark- hard to tell with a blue tinged screen.

"A sale, if you would," Arthur answered, "Children; a boy and two girls. I have no use for them, but I know you'd want them."

"How old on boy?" Viktor inquired, a hard gleam in his eye.

"Seven, maybe eight, the girls are younger, but the youngest is probably only five," the pirate stated, knowing that the children were listening in right at the doorway, "They're there," he stated, turning the device so now it faced the children.

"Ten thousand on the smallest girl," Oliver immediately responded, "Poor little poppet looks like a little doll! I just want to dress her up and feed her all the cake she can eat!" the sudden sparkle in his eye an indicator for something else, something almost quite sinister.

"...seven thousand on the other bitch," Imogen blinked, yawning as if in boredom, "she looks like she'd be good for breeding."

"Boy, strip," the disgruntled Russian ordered, a hungry look in his eye that was, in Arthur's opinion, too lustful to be determined any other way.

Allen had opened his mouth to retort, but a look and flash of the gun from Arthur had him glaring defiantly at Viktor as his fingers trembled whilst he worked his clothes off of his thin body, his sisters turning away and hiding their eyes to show a bit of privacy to their brother. Covering his privates, he faced the device, the hate only growing in his small body as his eyes stayed steely although they were puffy from crying earlier. Viktor seemed to find him appealing, motioning for him to turn, which Allen did begrudgingly.

"Little one, let me see under those hands," the Russian practically cooed, a shit eating grin lighting up his stoic features and making him look a lot more dangerous than the reality of Arthur's gun. Of course, the request was more really an order, but Allen still found himself heavily flushed with embarrassment alongside his anger as he slowly and regretfully brought his hands to his sides in tight fists, his eyes shut just as tight as he dropped his chin, shaking even more, "Fifteen thousand," Viktor finally responded after a long, hard, almost memorizing stare, "I am heading out now, expect arrival by dawn tomorrow."

"In full, mind," Arthur sighed, satisfied that Viktor's price made up for stingy Imogen's.

"I'll be there in a couple hours," Oliver supplied, "I can't wait to just spoil the brat rotten!"

"Evening today," Imogen answered with a roll of her eyes, shutting off the connection.

Clicking his tongue derisively, Arthur watched as Allen already gotten redressed as quickly as possible, pity the lad won't have a need for clothes where he's going, "Send Imogen my coordinates, Oliver, I can't deal with her right now," he stated, loading up the map where he currently was for the other two men to see.

"Congratulations, Comrade. You got Eden," Viktor replied, a bit impressed that such a heavily guarded place was claimed so easily.

"I told you I would," Arthur retorted, holstering his gun, "This so called Watch wasn't as strong as it boasted to be."

"Gaisir Rouc, quite an interesting choice," Oliver giggled, doing his best to capture the interest of the smallest child whom had hidden their face in Allen's side, "So I take it that capturing planet Keenon 740 was not enough for you? Those creature's children were rather adorable, if a little too much on the tentacle side."

"Oh I brought a few with me, dead useful, mind," The pirate grinned, "How is the one I sent you? The lad still a useful toy?"

"No, the poor thing escaped and one of my other babies got ahold of him," Oliver sighed wistfully, "such a mess to clean up, and a waste too," he'd now given up, unsuccessful in his attempt to get Abigail to look at him.

"Such a shame," Viktor snorted, "take care of your things better and maybe they won't run."

"Viktor, your idea of "take better care" involves either breaking or removing their legs entirely if they try to escape," Arthur cut in, pushing past the angry, frightened, and confused children to head back to the kitchen. He kicked up his feet once more upon the table, drinking the remaining wine straight from the bottle after placing the device down upon the table, "Don't think I don't know what you did to that bunny boy."

"Rabbit legs are a delicacy," Oliver replied in Viktor's defence, "But the lad knows better than to go anywhere without you now, hm?"

"Да, he cannot go anywhere unless I carry him out," Viktor responded, the Russian's screen now moving to display a young child, about the size of a three year old, with long fuzzy ears sprouting from the top of a messy mop of (what Arthur knew to be) messy blond hair. Their face was very flushed as they worked on Viktor's cock with their small mouth, licking and sucking greedily as their little tail twitched- the bound stubs of their thighs spread wide as something long and fat jutted out from just beneath their tail, "The little one went into heat three days ago, that is why he is being so good now," It was very easy to hear the dominant purr in the Russian's voice as a large hand roughly fisted the mussed hair and brought the rabbit's face up, revealing half-lidded, lust darkened oculi the color of new spring grass.

"Beautiful," Arthur murmured, drinking down the last mouthful of wine. Damn stuff was real good, but best not get too hammered off it since Oliver would be coming soon, "Oliver, leaving now?"

"Yes, yes," came the reply, Oliver's screen blank since the man had disappeared out of his device's sight, "Just preparing a place for her and gathering the price. I know how you prefer full, on site payment."

"Indeed," Arthur replied, satisfaction written on his face.

During this exchange, the children talked in soft whispers, Allen comforting his sisters as best he could despite his own fear. Amelia had broken down in tears, rocking Abigail in her lap as the youngest whimpered and sniffled heavily. They were all frightened, the youngest, more so confused on what would soon happen to them and generally fed off of the fear of her older siblings.

"I.. I want m-mommy," Abigail whined, clinging to her sister tightly, "a-and Alfie."

"Abby....mommy is.. She's in a better place," Allen answered stiffly, wiping at his eyes furiously as his heart clenched, "and Alfie...is too, you know that."

"B-but I w-want!" she stuttered, almost growing hysterical, but Amelia shushed her, humming a broken lullaby that hurt to sing since it was the song their mother had given to all of them.

"I know, Abby, I know, me too," he admitted, biting down onto a trembling lip as he held both of the girls. He wasn't good like Alfred would be in such a situation, he wasn't able to smile reassuringly enough like his older brother would in the face of desperation, "but just... Just be good, okay? Mommy will come get you if you be good, okay?" his hand shook as he ran his fingers through her sleep tangled hair, both of the girls in a similar state as they had woken up to a living nightmare.

Allen apologized each time he accidentally pulled too hard, but after a decent bit of finger combing, he plaited her hair as nicely as he could, tying it off with a ribbon he pulled off of her nightgown from the bottom hem. Abigail had managed to fall asleep during that time, secretly hoping to wake up to her mommy's sweet smile and Alfred's laugh as he and Allen rough housed like all boys would while Amelia found a nice dress for her to wear. Amelia ran her own hands through her short, choppy hair, she having been the one to cut it herself since she had gotten tired of it being long.

"Hopefully she stays asleep for a long time," Amelia muttered, "stay asleep like those ancient story princesses, please, Abby," she begged quietly, gently brushing her fingers over a cherubic, chubby cheek, "Don't ever wake up."

Arthur eyed the children from where he sat, the adulterous conversation having gone silent as the device cut the communication. It was almost too tempting to disturb them for entertainment, but he'd had enough of their crying so he let them be. The youngest would be paid for and then the other girl will follow...really, all he had to worry about was keeping the unruly boy in line until dawn. Still, he knew Viktor wouldn't mind a bit of temporary damage if it had to come down to that. Until then, what to do?

**Author's Note:**

> Gaisir Rouc is pronounced geyser rook


End file.
